


adequate

by sarahyyy



Series: the final frontier [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 02:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5317532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He pulls away, staring at Enjolras with wide eyes. His lips are tingling, his heart feels like it’s beating its way of out his chest, and there is hope wretchedly blooming inside of him the way he promised himself he wouldn’t let happen, because if Enjolras hadn’t pushed him away, if he hasn’t already started to recoil away from Grantaire in horror, that’s really a lot more than Grantaire had expected, coming to Enjolras’ quarters. </p><p>Enjolras is quiet for a moment, and there’s nothing in his face that betrays any sort of emotion. When he speaks, it’s only to ask, “Lieutenant, what is your current blood alcohol content?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	adequate

He pulls away, staring at Enjolras with wide eyes. His lips are tingling, his heart feels like it’s beating its way of out his chest, and there is hope wretchedly blooming inside of him the way he promised himself he wouldn’t let happen, because if Enjolras hadn’t pushed him away, if he hasn’t already started to recoil away from Grantaire in horror, that’s really a lot more than Grantaire had expected, coming to Enjolras’ quarters. 

Enjolras is quiet for a moment, and there’s nothing in his face that betrays any sort of emotion. When he speaks, it’s only to ask, “Lieutenant, what is your current blood alcohol content?” 

Grantaire’s heart sinks at the thought of Enjolras thinking so little of him, even though he really shouldn’t have expected anything different. “I’m not drunk,” he tells Enjolras, fighting to keep the hurt from showing on his face.

Enjolras’ eyes narrow just a tad. He doesn’t believe Grantaire, of course he doesn’t believe him, what reason has Grantaire ever given Enjolras to believe in him? 

He sighs. “I had one drink,” he admits quietly, because the only other option would be to lie to Enjolras, and he doesn't want to do that now. “I would’ve come sober, but I figured I needed at least one drink before I could come here. To talk to you.”

At this, Enjolras arches a single eyebrow. “Are you only comfortable conversing with me when you have alcohol in your system?” 

Grantaire cannot deal with Enjolras right now. He kind of wants to smash his head against the wall until he forgets this ever happened. He didn’t think this conversation would go down easily, but he really hadn’t expected it to be this difficult. He should never have come. Why the hell is he even here in the first place?

Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta, that’s why. He needs to cut off all ties with the lot of them from sickbay, they give the worst relationship advice. 

Enjolras is still looking at him, waiting for an answer, and Grantaire really just wants this conversation to be over already so that he can slink off to Engineering to cry into Feuilly’s arms or something, so he sighs and mumbles, “It’s dutch courage, y’know?”

“As you are not Dutch, and as I am not aware that the Dutch have had any record of being significantly more courageous than the other Terrans,” Enjolras says, and there is a furrow between his brows now, genuinely confused, “I think it is logical to say that I do not, in fact, know what you are talking about.”

Grantaire wants to laugh; he’s always found Enjolras’ lack of comprehension regarding most colloquial Standard phrases to be delightful. He also really wants to cry, preferable from an entire galaxy away from Enjolras, while clutching onto a bottle of Bossuet’s homemade gin, because he's quite sure that he isn't supposed to find Enjolras adorable when Enjolras is attempting to reject him. He settles instead for sighing, and taking a few steps back from Enjolras. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Captain. I’ll just go now.”

“Lieutenant,” Enjolras says, before Grantaire can make his escape. “Am I to understand from your actions that you are in possession of feelings of a romantic nature for me?”

Grantaire can feel the flush creeping up his face. He nods.

Enjolras is quiet for a moment, but it’s the kind of quiet that means that he’s thinking, the kind of quiet that signals that he’s trying to solve a problem. Grantaire feels an ache in his chest at the thought of being a problem to Enjolras. 

Then, Enjolras says, slowly, “I confess that I have never had cause to think about the both of us in a relationship of a romantic nature.”

Grantaire tries not to wince, because of course Enjolras has never thought of him like that before, he knew that before he came to see Enjolras, and he really shouldn’t be so disappointed by a scenario he’s already postulated to be highly probable.

He mustn’t have hidden his disappointed as well as he’d wanted to, because Enjolras pauses and looks at him, and Grantaire can swear that his eyes grow a little softer, but he’s probably imagining things.

Maybe it’s his body’s way of coping with the rejection.

Enjolras continues, “But I will also confess that now that the situation has presented me with an opportunity to do so, I find that the thought is not entirely disagreeable.”

Grantaire gapes. And then blinks at Enjolras. “What?”

“I find your proximity to be pleasing,” Enjolras says, and takes two measured steps towards Grantaire, casual as anything.

“Oh.”

The corner of Enjolras’ lip twitches, the way Grantaire’s noticed only happens when Enjolras is amused. It isn’t an entirely unusual expression to see on Enjolras’ face, but it’s definitely the first time Grantaire’s had it directed at him before. 

He isn’t exactly sure he isn’t in an alternate reality.

“In addition to that, your mouth has been proven to function adequately,” Enjolras says, voice low. 

That makes Grantaire frown. “ _Adequate_?” he echoes. “No-one’s ever described my mouth as adequate.”

“It is a logical use of the word as it implies satisfaction in quality,” Enjolras explains, no less amused. 

“How am I attracted to you?” Grantaire laments. At the slightest furrow between Enjolras’ brows, he adds, “Never mind, I am.”

Grantaire takes a leap of faith and leans in, fits his mouth to Enjolras’, and kisses him again. He realises when Enjolras presses Grantaire close to him with a hand on the small of his back that Enjolras’ played him, that Enjolras _wanted_ him to kiss him again, and yup, his alternate reality theory is starting to look more likely by the minute. 

“Illogical,” Enjolras says, pulling away, and _oh_ , Grantaire forgot about the touch telepathy bit of things. 

There’s really only one way to answer that, so Grantaire takes Enjolras’ hand in his, delights in the way it makes his breath hitch, and says, “You should probably shut me up before I get even more illogical, then, Captain.”

Enjolras does.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has to be blamed for this, please blame El, because she is an enabler. Who texts me Vulcan!Enjolras headcanons every half hour. THE WORST KIND OF ENABLER. 
> 
> The "How am I attracted to you? // Doesn't matter, I am." line is from Brooklyn Nine Nine! :D
> 
> As usual, I am [here on Tumblr](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com), come say hi!


End file.
